


Kenny the Therapist

by writingandchocolatemilk



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-11 23:30:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3336818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingandchocolatemilk/pseuds/writingandchocolatemilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenny liked sex.</p><p>He liked making other people feel good and, hey, he felt pretty good, too.</p>
<p>What his friends didn’t understand was that sex and love were not intrinsically linked. Just because Kenny had sex, that didn’t make him the love expert. In fact, he was probably one of the worst people to talk to about love or relationships.</p>
<p>Now, if you were going to talk about <i>weed</i>, Kenny could follow. Craig understood this. Kenny and Craig got along. Craig asked about weed. Kenny gave him weed.</p>
<p>Kyle and Kenny also got along. However, instead of weed, Kyle asked about whether or not side-long glances in homeroom meant anything. If—<i>gasp</i>—brushing of hands meant <i>they were soul mates</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kenny the Therapist

Kenny liked sex.

He liked making other people feel good and, hey, he felt pretty good, too.

What his friends didn’t understand was that sex and love were not intrinsically linked. Just because Kenny had sex, that didn’t make him the love expert. In fact, he was probably one of the worst people to talk to about love or relationships.

Now, if you were going to talk about _weed_ , Kenny could follow. Craig understood this. Kenny and Craig got along. Craig asked about weed. Kenny gave him weed.

Kyle and Kenny also got along. However, instead of weed, Kyle asked about whether or not side-long glances in homeroom meant anything. If— _gasp_ —brushing of hands meant _they were soul mates_.

“I should ask him,” Kyle muttered, sitting rigidly on his bed.

Kenny, who was sprawled on the floor, agreed.

“I should give him a rose.”

Kenny sat up. “No, you should just… Uh, ask him to a movie?”

And so, the Jew went off on his merry mission to ask Stan to the movies. When Stan came over a few hours later, wishing to get drunk, Kenny provided for him. The two sat in Kenny’s room, leaning against his bed and gazing at the door Kenny had nailed shut.

“Stan?”

“Mm?”

“Do you, like, g… Bat for the other team?”

Stan frowned and looked over at Kenny. If you have ever asked someone if they were gay, while you yourself admitted to be willing to screw just about anything, it’s very hard to convince the other person _you’re totally not coming on to them_. Kenny held up his hands.

“Asking for a dear friend.”

Stan, star quarterback in South Park’s shitty little high school football team, grunted. When he went to take a sip from his beer, his hand was shaking ever so slightly.

The weekend continued with no more visits from the dubious duo. Craig visited, smoked a blunt with Kenny, then left. They didn’t exchange more than fifteen words. Kenny was—dare he say it—almost relaxed when he walked into school Monday morning.

The feeling flew out the window when Stan violently grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. Stan was a pretty mellow dude—he could be a bit of a dick, but he was okay. Right now, he looked a mix between hurt confusion and anger. It was an impressive feat of facial muscles.

“What the _fuck_ did you tell Kyle?”

Kenny made a face—a guilty face. “To ask you to the movies?”

“ _Did you tell him I was gay_?” Stan hissed, leaning close. Stan could be a pretty scary dude. And then his face broke and he looked half ready to cry, and he released Kenny’s arm and ripped on his hat. “I’m sorry, I just—“ He shook his head and walked off.

That was a pretty hard thing to recover from. Kenny felt even worse when Butters appeared at his side.

“Heya, Ken,” the blond greeted brightly.

Kenny would have taken angry/heartbroken Stan back in an instant. “Hi, Butters.”

“You doin’ anything after school today?”

Getting high with Craig, probably. Speaking of which, Kenny spotted Craig trying to calm down Tweek. The two make eye contact and nodded; they had silently and mutually agreed their two _people_ were difficult to handle.

Kenny returned to Butters. “Nothing.”

Butters nodded. “Well, maybe we could do something—“

A hulking mass of teenaged boy loomed in front of Kenny and Butters. “Butters, why didn’t you meet me at my locker?”

Kenny did not have time for this shit. “Cartman, go have angry makeup sex with Wendy and fuck off. Butters is not your support blanket.”

The bell. The sweet, glorious bell.

… And off to Pre-Calc, with Kyle.

Kyle watched the teacher write notes on the board with such dedication it was frightening. Kenny, feeling like his stupid suggestion was the root of this problem, awkwardly passed Kyle a note.

The redhead glanced down and violently crumpled the piece of paper. Kenny sank down in his seat, groaning. A note was passed from the seat behind him.

Butters said hello smiley face.

When school ended, Kenny practically fell down on his knees to thank the lord. He dragged his sorry ass back to his house and crawled in through his window. Onto his bed he went, attempting and abandoning some homework.

Craig came a-callin’.

“So, I might propose to Tweek.”

“NO.” Kenny gaped at Craig through his window. “Craig, you’re supposed to be the one that _doesn’t_ tell me all his relationship crap. Please, please don’t—“

“I’m asking you first.”

Fuck.


End file.
